


Day 4 - On a date

by elessar_undomiel



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge - Johnlock [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angelo's Restaurant, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Insecure John, Insecure Sherlock, M/M, Valentine's Day, chocolate-covered strawberries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-11 23:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4456265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elessar_undomiel/pseuds/elessar_undomiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“John I need you for a case”</p><p>In which Sherlock and John are both pining for each other, but Sherlock has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 4 - On a date

“John I need you for a case”

John’s gaze snapped up: a new case was great news, Sherlock had been incredibly nervous in the last days, and John himself was starting to feel a bit bored. “Yeah, sure, where are we going?” 

Sherlock wavered for just a fraction of a second. “No, it’s not tonight… I still have to check a few things about the killer… I… I need you tomorrow night”

“Oh” Oh. That meant Valentine’s Day… He wanted to ask Lydia out, the girl he met every now and then at Tesco; he had found out where she lived and he had also managed to get her phone number. However, to be honest, the problem wasn’t giving up a date. He didn’t give a shit about that actually. The problem was spending Valentine’s Day with his best friend, the man he was desperately and hopelessly in love with. Well, obviously Sherlock didn’t know that, as much as he probably didn’t know that the following day would be in any way special, and it was fine, he didn’t want to scare him and spoil their friendship.

“You… Do you already have plans?”

Damn. This wasn’t fair. Sherlock was making that bloody puppy face. John sighed, put his pride aside and accepted the fact that, even though it would be hard for the above-mentioned reason, chasing a serial killer with Sherlock would still be the best way to spend the night. And yes, Sherlock would never return his feelings, but he obviously cared about him, and he apparently cared about having him beside in his hunts. Maybe it could be enough, maybe John could make do with just that. He smiled, only a tiny bit forcedly.

“No, Sherlock, I don’t have plans, I’d love to go chasing a killer with you”

Yes, the bright smile that lighted Sherlock’s face up was definitely an adequate prize.

* * *

They had dinner at Angelo’s because, Sherlock had explained, the pursuit wouldn’t take place until late. John didn’t complain about the candle on the table, but it made his chest ache as if he had been stabbed.

Sherlock looked particularly nervous, but then again, it was undoubtedly the anticipation for the chase. However, he slowly calmed down, and he even ate some roasted potatoes from John’s dish and accepted to share a dessert. When Sherlock sticked his fork in the last chocolate-covered strawberry and brought it to John’s mouth, the doctor’s face got redder than the fruit. He ate it, trying not to jump to hasty conclusions, trying not to deceive himself but most of all trying not to think about Sherlock’s mouth and wether it tasted of strawberry and chocolate too.

* * *

They moved to the park the killer was supposed to pass through and sat on a bench. John had no idea of how long they were supposed to wait, and he actually didn’t care. They talked about everything and nothing, Sherlock didn’t actually seem to be paying attention to any passer-by.

After a while John turned, crouching and putting his feet on the bench, his arms around his knees, to face Sherlock without twisting his neck.

A few minutes later Sherlock turned slightly on his side too, an arm on the backrest, inches from John’s crouched body. John’s brain switched off completely when Sherlock began to absent-mindedly caress John’s arms and shins. When he managed to think again, he decided that he couldn’t waste this moment: he stretched his legs on Sherlock’s lap and got closer, a lot closer, until his shoulder brushed Sherlock’s. His flatmate’s eyes opened wide, and he stuttered for a few moments - he was telling a story about his childhood - until he finally gave in and shut up. They stopped talking at all. Sherlock’s arm surrounded John’s back and pulled him even closer, until he was almost sitting on his lap. John realised that their mouths were just inches apart.

“John” Sherlock’s voice was hoarse, but John couldn’t even speak, his throat just made a strangled noise to encourage him to go on. Sherlock’s eyes shifted back and forth between John’s eyes and his mouth while he spoke. “John I… I should confess that… there isn’t… there isn’t any serial killer… this was just… I just wanted to… I was ashamed of asking… Didn’t want you to get mad…” He looked so sweet and insecure that John couldn’t help smiling lovingly and gently stroking his cheek. He stopped rambling and stared into John’s eyes, and in those icy pools John saw the same feelings he had desperately tried to repress and hide. And there would be time for words, later, time to explain how much he had craved this; but not now. John closed the distance between them. Sherlock still tasted of strawberry and chocolate.


End file.
